


it hurts but it fits

by fromthefire



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Cutting, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mild Sexual Content, Other, Prostitution, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Song Lyrics, Suicide, im kidding dont actually, take a shot for every sad tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25299559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthefire/pseuds/fromthefire
Summary: Pain was something the Hargreeves didn't wear well, but never grew out of.
Kudos: 44





	it hurts but it fits

_No one asks us how we want to be /  
In school they teach you what to think _

It was selfish; the way Luther hurt himself. It always had to involve someone else because with father watching, he couldn't bare to be visibly broken. Luther was strong but not strong enough to do it one his own.  
He did it because he wanted friends but he also wanted to be love, knew he couldn't have both in that household. He also knew his siblings held a hatred for him. Now, for what, depended on each sibling.  
Diego despised how he called himself Number One.  
Allison was always annoyed with how oblivious he was to his own feelings, to their father, to ... everything.  
Klaus hated Luther because father let Luther slip past the abuse.  
Five detested how predictable he was but Five hated that about everyone.  
Ben, well, what Ben hates him for was between him and Luther.  
Vanya loathed every bit of Luther for every reason.  
So no one really could mind when Luther hit himself. At first, he wanted to see how badly he felt. How his enemies felt. This is where his durability became a curse because he was powerful but he was also resilient.  
He tried to combat this by hindering fights between not only criminals but Five as well. He wanted to savor each droplet of pain. He gave a missed kick and he had a nice, broken jaw. A delayed dodge and he was met with the most fulfilling bloody nose. The wrong footing allowed him to have all the quick but angry punches to his face. Bonus points if he couldn't catch his breath and his ribs ached for a couple days.  
Five quickly became familiar with this but didn't question it but only grew irritated. Then, Luther could only depend on criminals to give him the satisfaction of pain which led to him almost losing his live a couple times.  
"Bruises do you good. Toughness is a good look for boys becoming men." Father would remark.  
In between training, missions, Luther fought himself. He wanted to be a kid with his brothers and sister before it was too late. He wanted to love them before they hated him forever. He couldn't if he wanted father's attention. He hurt himself because he chose father over his siblings. He hurt himself because he made the wrong choice and he did it just in case he didn't.  
He had stopped after his near death experience on the moon, he actually forgot about it, honestly. After Reginald had died and it was revealed he never opened a single package Luther had sent, he relapsed. Every feeling of inadequacy and shame came flooding back. He pulled his hair out. He gave himself black eyes. He bit himself until he saw red. The one man he gave up everything to please and he never cared for Luther once.  
All he knew was victory and perfection. It was all his father taught him and their father was never a good teacher. He was a damn good liar, though.

_Hiding the tears in my eyes /  
'Cause boys don't cry _

He liked his knives; they saw him at his best and were there at his worst. Out of all the ways he had made his self hatred physical, some purely accidental and some blissfully on purpose, he always turned to knives.  
When he watched his blades dig into every 'bad guy', he forced himself to find pride. It was a feeling Reginald dug into his brain. Years after he left and that man was still lingering in his mind, still controlling him.  
It was kind of funny because when those same knives dug into his skin, he felt quite opposite of pride.  
But really, who was to say Diego wasn't a 'bad guy' he was trained to defeat?  
"You only hurt people who deserve it." He was taught. The people who deserved it were described as murderers, thieves; people who only caused pain.  
Diego had murdered; he murdered late into his twenties, go figure. He stole lives. He couldn't account for the last option but he figured someone out there could. He caused pain even if it was mostly to his own being. Even more reason to kill himself a little.  
He had wounds. Shallow and profound. Some stretched what seemed like miles across his body and some so short, he wouldn't have counted them if they didn't scar. There were scars across his thighs, hiding on his ankles and a few standing proud on his wrist. Each scar was always up, down, never side ways. For all those times he wish they didn't have the time to scar over.  
Diego hated the way the scars looked but was addicted to the way they felt freshly born. They scarred over pink and pale and his father had always said pink was for sissies. He was not a sissy. He was a man. A strong one, too.  
He forced the first knife into his skin when he lost his first fight to Luther. One upper hand to his face and Diego was bleeding all over himself in Reginald's annoyed presence. Mom had cleaned him up, but Diego's nose kept bleeding and his eye's kept dripping with tears.  
He hadn't even stayed long enough to watch Five face Luther, which was the best matched opponent on the team. Five always let him win because Five grew so bored of winning so quickly. Bastards, both of them.  
Angry and disappointed, he mindlessly jabbed the metal into his thigh. It hurt and he bit into his palm to keep from screaming. He had to learn to take a punch and had to learn to win. This would be the first step to getting used to hurting.  
Maybe his father would notice him and he'd get to feel half of the love Luther was showered with everyday. He loved his father and Diego couldn't wait for his father to love him back.  
It never happened. He never won and he never was loved. He was merely a toy. Toys were forgotten about when their was a better one. Diego knew that now.  
His lacerations were made out of anger instead of shame and hope. He didn't know which was more damaging.

_I'm not sick but I'm not well /  
And it's a sin to live so well _

Allison heard a lot of rumors. She told twice as many.  
Even as a young girl discovering her abilities, she had her heart set on being as perfect as Luther. She wanted to be loved as did all the Hargreeves children. (Even if they all tried to achieve that in different ways.)  
Allison loved the attention from the fame they all had. Being a hero was a jump start to Allison's successful singing, modeling, acting career. There were so many options to choose from with every manager throwing themselves at her feet.  
She was perfect. To father and to the rest of the entire world. Every time she stepped out of the shiny car, the only thing she heard was her name screamed by every person who had waited just for a glimpse of her. Ripped papers with ten digit numbers were tossed her way along with suggestive glances from boys.  
But she liked to focus on the little girls who wore the mask. The little girls who held signs up with misspelled words who sat on top of their mothers shoulders and their huge smiles.  
So she wondered why that when she sat alone in her room, she felt bad . It only happened when she sat in front of the mirror, teen magazine laying beside her.  
It started with her body. She smiled into the mirror. She looked back at the magazine. Was her smile too small? Her teeth weren't as white at the girls were on the cover.  
Brown eyes looked to the paper again to study the girl's face. The girl was her age. But her makeup was so smooth and not even one pimple was visible. The makeup on Allison's cheeks looked caked on compared to the girl's. Small mountains could be seen across her forehead and the blackheads around her nose were obvious, too. Did she always look like this?  
Now that she thought about it, she stood up, eyes still glued to herself in the mirror. In a short time she made some quick observations. Her chest was too big. Her hips were too tiny as well as her backside. Her entire face just didn't look right. She didn't look right.  
Her insecurities plagued her just as they did for every teenager. She was lucky though. Not every teenager who grew weary of themself had her power. If her power could make father love her and give her fame, it could fix this whole mess before it even began.  
_"I heard a rumor that you think my voice sounds pretty."  
"I heard a rumor you think I'm perfect for the role."  
"I heard a rumor that I'm perfect ."  
"I heard a rumor that I'm perfect."  
"I heard a rumor that I'm perfect."  
"I heard a rumor you fell in love with me."_ Allison had every single thing she wanted. Allison also had nothing she didn't want.  
In the process, she never knew how much damage she had done to herself.  
She never knew what real love was. She never even knew that people could be kind on their own. All because the biggest lies she told were to herself.

_You want the chills, you want the high /  
Probably need a pill just to crack a smile _

Klaus did everything he could to feel nothing. He'd often steal from, well, from anyone but there were times people would steal from him.  
They were mostly men. Some women, too. Maybe even a few gender neutral people too? Klaus never was too particularly choosy over who his body temporality belonged to. He was too gone from the drugs or desperate in need of it to notice, anyway.  
Okay, maybe it wasn't stealing if he was offering himself up but would he being doing this if he had the money for the drugs himself? If he didn't need to silence every scream in his head? He didn't like to think about it. He didn't like to think at all.  
They were gentle, when he asked. They were rough, if he slurred coherently enough. Some didn't listen at all, which he found quite rude. Some didn't ask about the burns and scars that littered his body and when they did he'd laugh, telling them they were lucky if they hadn't known what they were. When he laughed a little too long about it and a little too sadly he would slip their finger into his mouth because that's the only way he'd learn to shut up.  
Klaus had quit stopping by the academy a while after he turned eighteen, long after he couldn't steal Reginald's money anymore. He did miss Luther even when he knew damn well the feeling wasn't mutual. It was odd, but some part of him missed the consistency of the abuse and the make believe love of his siblings. It was another thing he hated to think about.  
He knew Diego and Allison left as soon as they got the chance to. Allison had met some guy and even had a baby if the news sources were correct. Diego probably had a stable place, too. Five was long gone which was sad, he admitted but he was just like Luther. One of dad's pawns who excelled at the abuse. Ben was gone, as well. There was another, wasn't there? Ah, hell.  
If there was another reason not to visit, beside he had no idea where the hell anyone lived, it would be a hassle to explain all the marks on his notably thin frame. Of course, they knew about the scars. It wasn't as if he was trying to hide anything anyway, Luther had actually walked in on him using his lighter on something that definitely was not a cigarette or joint. They both left it at that. It was the bruises and mannerisms he couldn't explain. It was the finger shaped purple and blue bruises around his neck that he forgot to be ashamed of. It was how he couldn't really take a compliment that wasn't about his body. It didn't help that his father already dismissed him as a useless queer. It was his swollen lips, his delayed reactions, his slurred speech, the way he eyed men and the way they eyed him back. And if it wasn't that it was always something else. His siblings who were still on Earth were happy without him. That was the only thing he knew for certain because he never heard otherwise. Klaus tried to be happy for them. It came easier than most other things.  
He had accepted his life then and now. His life was rooted in abuse and all he wanted to do was get too high to care. He didn't mind a few harsh smacks to his cheek after a soft caress or a few vulgar names they'd call him and he'd happily repeat, to get there. As long as it ended with him able to block out the voices, he could convince himself everything was fine.  
Klaus had learned how to take a hard slap with a smile and beg for it again. He learned to love when strangers held in the smoke of what he hoped was weed and press their lips against him to exhale it. He learned the right time to cry was when his eyes teared up from someone hitting the back of his throat when calloused hands pulled his hair to keep him from gasping for air. Hey, at least he could hold his breath longer than he could before, right? It was self care, he told himself. He'd never hurt himself with sharp edges and controlled fire again. No stranger could hurt him as much as those memories.

_No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine /  
He's haunted by something he cannot define _

Everyone called Five narcissistic. He'd argue that was it really narcissism if his pride wasn't misplaced? He was the strongest on the team and it shouldn't have to be a secret.  
Luther lacked emotional intelligence. Maybe even intelligence in general. Sure he had strength but he was getting barely anywhere with only that. He was stupid, blind to about everything that didn't involve the old man and more naïve than an actual child. Beside, a man with super strength? It was overplayed to be frank.  
Diego had the emotional range of a cornered dog. All he knew was to fight and in extreme cases, run away and hide. All of them knew he was the crybaby of the team, always running to Grace when he was too overwhelmed. He would be considered a threat in a fight with Five if he hadn't had a stutter. It sounded harsh but Five knew the truth. Diego's stutter dropped pounds of confidence off him. He was always worrying about how he sounded and from there he worried about how himself as a whole came off to everyone. He was a damn good fighter if only he knew how to pick them.  
Allison was pretty deadly if she wanted to be. But she didn't. Her combat was average and her advantage could win any fight. Five disappeared early on into all their training so he never really did find out why she had stopped the rumors. He found that she would rumor something, feel bad about it, then quit it all together. He was only there once when it happened and it involved Luther somehow. Only Five didn't really care about petty drama. Anyway, Five could give Allison credit but that's all he gave her.  
The only thing Klaus was good for was a laugh and barely even then. He was a walking junkie joke if anyone found the effort to laugh. Five knew Reginald abused Klaus more than the others. He didn't really blame him when he looked to the drugs for comfort because no one else was there. Five was thankful to be away for the worse of his journey with self medicating. Klaus didn't really like to have physical fights even if he wasn't locked away. His powers weren't meant for it, either. Klaus and his powers were only play things for Reginald.  
Ben was an excellent fighter when he allowed himself to be. It was all thanks to his unleashed monsters that they won on nearly every mission. The fact that he didn't gloat was even better. Five did feel an odd feeling whenever Ben crossed his mind. It was a feeling between wanting to talk about his brother for the rest of time and never wanting to think of him again. Most often he went with the ladder.  
Vanya. Five was closest with Vanya. By close he acknowledged her and sometimes even played dolls with her when father wasn't around. She never got to fight. She barely got to be apart of the family. Five filed her in his mind right next to Ben. The feeling in the out of his stomach was the exact same.  
Five took another swig of the burning liquid that was warm all the way to his stomach. Usually, he never need ed a chaser but fuck, this shit was strong. He hated drinking alone, his mind always wandered back to his family. He drank away.  
He loved his family. Each and every crybaby and dumbass. Each primadonna and addict. Each sibling that was in pain and even the one's were still in it.  
The fuzziness of the alcohol embraced him like a soft hug he imagined his father giving him. He was going to fix this whole time travel shit and he was going to save his family because he knew damn well they suffered enough. Pain was something the Hargreeves didn't wear well.

_I know I'm not the only one who feels the pain of growing up /  
Then looking back, just to figure out how much we all really had _  
It wasn't Ben's fault. Well, it was, but no one had to know. Though, he did feel a pang of guilt knowing how easily everyone blamed Luther.  
Ben fucking hated himself to state it simply. No one taught him self hatred as well as Reginald. Each of his unimpressed glances and glares when he’d beg him not to make him unlease those hideous monsters were engraved into his mind at the mere mention of his name.  
Then there was guilt. Ben could never hate another human. Those monsters under his shirt killed mercilessly and again and again and again and again. They killed horrible people and they killed Ben, too. Only mentally at first but fuck it, he thought, if they get the job done.  
Ben wouldnt relive something so gruesome. Every person who fell victim to the monsters seemed to play back to back anyway. Why would he remember his own death when he had countless ones to choose from? He repressed it better than every naeusated expression from Reginald and every time his siblings looked genuinely petrified of him. Even if he knew it was only the tentacles that could strike fear in them, Ben felt sick. He understood, of course, they were children. They were only children and children wanted to be safe.  
He wanted to tell them all it was never their fault. He didn't know if they thought that but it was better to let then know anyway. He loved them all very much, even more so than live itself. It never really was for him though, he thought everyday. If this was life, it was scary. It was full of terrible men who did terrible things. It was full of people like Ben, too, who hid terrible things under their shirt.  
All he wanted was to help; to feel safe. Ben knew that safety was something everyone needed and surely no one in that academy had ever heard of it.  
So badly he wanted to tell Luther that was sweet and a little too naïve for his own good but that was okay.  
He'd calm Diego with a soft but firm hug because when had he ever had a hug or felt the soft touch of a friend? He wanted to tell him he knew inside he was soft and kind and that it wasn't a crime to show people that.  
Next, he would compliment Allison, let her know how much love he had for her. He would tell her about all the people on this world who spoke the truth unprompted; that yes, the truth was ugly at times but there was beauty that came with it.  
Most of all, Ben wanted to talk with Klaus about what was on his mind, maybe share a joint with him, because weed was not a gateway drug, goddamnit, to clear his mind from every bad day and person. Maybe even find him someone wonderful to show him what love looked like and how it felt because he knew Klaus looked in all the wrong places.  
Five was a lot more difficult, he'd try to find him first obviously. Ben would need a little longer to think what to do after that because that boy was a handful.  
Most important, Ben would hold Vanya because he knew all too well what keeping every ugly thing inside felt like. He would hold her with all the love she never received and he would explain that the man who took them in was very cruel and so greedy and that nothing ever was her fault. That he missed her so much. He'd say the most to her because no one ever was allowed to. Those pills she took would be thrown away and then she could see how powerful she was all along although you could tell just by meeting her. Her power was never quiet, he'd tell her. No one would be allowed at the dinner until she sat first and she'd sit at the head of the table because she was that important.  
He couldn't, although it was a nice thought. Ben had allowed death to take him in and make a home of his body.  
  
That’s how he hurt himself. It was only once and it was quick, and never did it happen again.

_And on the seventh day God made me /  
On the seventh day maybe God was lazy _

Vanya was starving herself. She really didn't mean to. Never had she been self conscious of her self beside the fact that she was just ordinary. She knew it and she knew it well but she didn't enjoy being constantly reminded that her siblings were better than she could ever hope to be.  
She never meant to be self destructive. Initially, she just wanted a break from the dinner table.She never really grew fond of seeing her siblings suffer.  
Diego and Luther's black eyes made even the shortest glance at them uncomfortable and unwanted. Luther looked away with a pink tint of embarrassment crossed his cheeks while Diego stared at her back until she broke contact. If Diego could win at anything, he was going to win.  
Allison always smiled at Vanya wasn't looking. Which wasn't very often. Usually she would give all her smiles to Luther while they kicked each other's feet under the dinner table. Which was very often.  
Five and Klaus were always silent. It took a while for Vanya to figure out why that was. It was pretty easy to determine Klaus' silence. He was high. On what, no one could say. His eyes were red either from crying or from the weird smell that drifted from his door. Maybe he just missed Ben, she wondered. He always roll a joint away from their father's eyes though, which she thought was quite brave of him to do.  
But with Five, her relation came after he had disobeyed their father and time travelled. He was thinking, always thinking of a comeback, a move in combat, a way to win against everyone; anything he could think about, he was. He pretty much had his betrayal, if you could betray your abuser, planned out. The knife into table that shocked everyone but father and Klaus (his reactions were always delayed). The wish he spoke aloud that he knew would be met with a quick dismissal. It was all a plan until he left, she always thought, because when he left, he never came back. Five was too smart to leave the academy this way; under these circumstances. Five was smart enough to return if he could.  
She avoided thinking about Ben too often, even though she did wonder what he would contribute to the dinner table. His death was horrifying, gruesome, disgusting, she had heard Luther telling Allison. Luther told Allison a lot of things when they were young. He told her about every siblings every odd thing they did and everything he won against them. Sometimes, Luther and Allison didn't talk at all when they were with each other and Vanya definitely didn't want to think about that.  
The worst had to be when eyes weren't on her. Everyone else gave her at least awkward and quick glances. She liked when they did because at least they knew she existed in the house with them.  
It was worse when Reginald never glanced one time at her beside training exercises where he'd force her to assist him. Although sometimes she did comply easily because he was talking, looking, including her. It was a nice feeling she enjoyed very rarely.  
When Five left, he was angry. The training was more rigorous. Diego had broken some bones that Mother had to heal. Allison became more quiet around them all. Klaus was always locked in the mausoleum again. Father had even yelled at Luther once.  
Father had begun to leave Vanya out of dinner. He'd instruct Mother to not call her name and to not prepare a plate for her, either.  
Eventually, Vanya would wonder down to find everyone else almost done with their food. She would look to their father and then to Allison who gave her looks she much rather would not want to see. But she got the point.  
It started with dinner, then lunch and even breakfast. She grew tiny, well, she didn't really grow at all. She was small and it only added to the ridicule by her father. She couldn't win.  
It spiraled out of her control pretty easily. It wasn't long until the thought of food nauseated her and she'd struggle to keep a cracker from coming back up.  
Vanya had only wanted to avoid the dinner table but then she avoided dinner itself. 

These were the many forms of pain the children wore. Even into adulthood, it still fit.

**Author's Note:**

> songs:  
> Luther: I Want Out / Helloween  
> Diego: Boys Don't Cry / The Cure  
> Allison: Flagpole Sitta / Harvey Danger  
> Klaus: Braindead / Elohim  
> Five: The Distance / CAKE  
> Ben: Mirrors / Arrested Youth  
> Vanya: Dennis / Roy Blair


End file.
